On the Inside, Looking Out

Ever since I returned to the outside world, I've been marvelling at how damnably busy it all is. There are so many people, and so relatively few that know or care that I exist at all. Somehow this is a more depressing concept than it ought to be. People have fully functional lives of their own, and here's me, struggling just to pull myself together ... I'd say 'again', but I don't think I was ever together in the first place. All these people with purpose, and then me, just fighting the depression that never seems to completely go away, no matter how happy I should be.

Of course, some of my happinesses have been all but stripped from me lately anyway. A promising e-mail exchange with Wendy came to absolutely naught (not that I pushed it; I thought that'd be rude, no matter how much I want us to be friends again). My contact with Ryu has been extremely limited lately. Mamoru's gone so quiet. From the self-punishment sector, I get:

It was something I said, wasn't it. Wendy wasn't a one-off. I should at least know what I said to them to make them back off. Do they think I don't need them, now that I've got a damn psychotherapist? Great. Way to communicate, keed...

Of course, the more rational part of my brain tells me that they have lives of their own, and the time difference makes things horribly hard anyway, but then I wind up kicking myself for screwing up so badly in North America. I can't win here.

It's not forever. It feels like it might be, though. Gah. Depressing. This is going to be a long hard haul, antidepressants notwithstanding.

Help!

Thessaly